


I'm Alive

by orphan_account



Series: Valor [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Autistic Character, Child Abuse, Child Sexual Abuse, Gen, Stimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 11:06:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9817292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Eric isn't who he was meant too be, or maybe he's too close to that idea. Either way his father isn't a good person, never was.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains child abuse and csa honestly if that triggers you don't read. It's not graphic but it could be enough.

Eric had one thought as he saw his father pinned to the floor and it was pretty much “How the fuck did my life get here?”

From there it was all a blur, he was led outside and sat down and told to wait, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He curled up into himself, in the bed of the truck where he was sitting. The DEO was crowding up the road running from the main road to his house. Everyone was moving so fast and it seemed everyone had a purpose, except him. He paused before moving off the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. It was too itchy and felt like sandpaper on his skin.

“Your father is going away for a long, long time, he'll never hurt you again,” a woman said.

Eric looked up and examined her for a badge or something. There was nothing, it was almost like despite being a DEO officer she was untraceable. Although that was probably the point.

“Who are you? My dad did nothing wrong. Are you locking up innocent aliens now?” Eric tried to sound confident and like how the people on tv sounded when they were making a point but it came out scared.

“My name is Alex and what your dad did was very wrong,” she said.

“He didn't do anything,” Eric didn't make eye contact choosing instead to play with the strings of his pajama pants. The fabric had the Superman and Supergirl symbols patterned on them, against a dark blue background with satin strings. They were his favorite.

Alex took a deep breath, “You know I know Supergirl and Superman,” her voice was similar to that of someone trying to impress a small child.

“Cool,” Eric’s voice was an almost creepy monotone, he kept his eyes to the ground.

“Maybe you can meet Supergirl if you help me,” Alex said.

“I don't want to meet Supergirl, I want my dad back,” Eric said.

“I can't do that, but I have somewhere for you to stay, at least until we can find your mother,” Alex bent down to Eric’s level, clearly trying to get him to make eye contact.

“Where are my sisters? Call Chell and Mara. They'll tell you my dad never did anything,” Eric needed this all cleared up and they could explain it, make it go away.

“They called us,” her voice was heavy and calm, as though she was explaining death to a small child.

“No! You're lying! You're lying! They know our dad! They'd never never do that!” Eric gripped the edge of the bed of a the truck, the metal crumpling under the pressure of his grip.

“Please calm down, here come with me and you can get your stuff,” Alex pressed a hand into Eric’s shoulder.

“I'm one of the last Daxamites alive, I can destroy you!” Eric was yelling as loud as he could, hoping to press the words into Alex, to make her see that he was right, make her stop touching him like she knew him because she didn't.

“Except you wouldn't do that. Your sisters told me you're a sweet boy, that your dad is the one who made you this way,” Alex said.

“He didn't do anything to me! Why won't you just listen to me—my dad did nothing wrong! He raised me in accordance to how a Daxamite boy should be raised! He barely even leaves the house,” Eric was trying to make his case and he just needed her to listen to him.

There was a long heavy pause before Alex sighed, “We're not on Daxam anymore, Erach. The rules are different here.”

  

* * *

 

 

Eric had never woken up somewhere that wasn't his own bed. Back home his sheets and his comforter were soft and warm and hugged him perfectly. Here, at the DEO, the blankets were coarse and made of wool and the sheet felt cold to the touch even though he'd been rolling around in them all night. The room felt wrong and it made him feel wrong because of it.

He stared at the wall for almost an hour, his mind racing before he carefully got out of bed and stretched. He hated everything about it and he just wanted to feel better again.

A trashbag sat in the corner, it was filled with his clothes and toiletries. Alex had said that he could come back for whatever else he needed soon. He opened the bag, emptying the contents onto the floor. The pile on the floor was mostly clothes, with a few stuffed animals and action figures mixed in. His baby blanket was there too, it's light red fabric soft under his fingers. His father had used the replicator in his ship to make the fabric like those on Daxam.

He slipped on a shirt and pants and clutched the blanket to his chest, pausing before putting it and his Superman along with the Supergirl action figures in his backpack. He mangled his feet into his blue slip on shoes and headed out of the room. He didn't know where he was going, but he needed to find someone who would listen.

 

* * *

 

 

J’onn placed Dor Sarren in a lead lined cell. He'd interrogated the man for several house and he'd come to one conclusion, the man was scum. He'd planned on using his son to create more daxamites, daxamites more close to full daxamites. J’onn had come into contact with a handful of daxamites in his time and none of them were pure, they all had other ancestry. There was the half human, half daxamite in Central City named Andromeda. In Arizona there was a family with three half daxamite children. In New York there was a set of twins, and now there was 3 more.

J’onn had no regrets, people like Dor didn't deserve to live. People who could do something like that to a child were despicable, the worst of the worst. He'd never understood why people who hurt children got to live when his daughters were dead. He wasn't particularly concerned with the intricacies of fair, but he knew that this wasn't it.

When lead killed daxamites it made sense to just… place Dor in a lead cell. Let him die. And that's what J’onn did. The last full daxamite died, a slow and painful death, alone. J’onn could never regret it.

 

* * *

 

 

“Your father is dead,” J’onn’s voice was calm and level.

“He's dead?” Eric asked, his voice was small and broken.

“He was in a lead lined cell, we're deeply sorry,” J’onn said.

“I think… I want to be alone. I wanna be away from you guys,” Eric swiveled on his heel and headed back to his standard issue room, barely concealing his tears until he was alone.

When Eric cried everything was let loose. It was like a dam had broken and suddenly he was sobbing. His father was dead. His father was dead. 


End file.
